“What about the Watcher?” I asked, remembering our ride through the forest to the castle and the subsequent conversation during my bath. “You said that it defends the keep from attack.”
“The Watcher’s a legend,” Berenice said, dismissive. “I’d rather rely on good men and strong walls.”
“Good men and strong walls are always good,” I said. I walked over to the parapet, running a hand over its solid stone. “Has the castle ever fallen?”
“No,” Berenice said. She directed the servant to place the basket on the table and, opening it, took out a porcelain teapot snug in a cozy, a couple of teacups and saucers, spoons, creamer and sugar bowl, and what looked like a plate of shortbread biscuits. Walking back to the table, I could see Mearden’s crest imprinted on each biscuit in the light of the candle and braziers—a running stag. Just like the one upstairs on the tapestry. I stared a little apprehensively at it, but the biscuit remained a biscuit.
“We have never fallen,” Berenice said, reclaiming my attention, “for we’ve never been attacked.”
“Never attacked?” I asked, surprised. While Jusson’s reign was generally peaceful—excluding the odd rebellion and demon attack—there had been plenty of lawlessness in olden times with brigands and river pirates and the occasional ambitious lord seeking to expand his holdings at the expense of his neighbor. The keep didn’t look all that old, but I figured that, given its elevated position over the harbor and surrounding land, it most likely had been built on the site of an older fortress, or a series of fortresses, with the first probably held by a fae castellan when the land had belonged to the People. Which would explain all the white stag motifs scattered about.
“Well, there are old stories,” Berenice said, “but I treat them as I do the Watcher.” She indicated the chairs. “Please be seated, my lord.”
The chairs were comfortable and we were quite warm in our cloaks and lap rugs with the fires burning on either side of us. I glanced over my shoulder to see that the maid had seated herself at another convenient chair placed a little distance from us. She too was bundled up and all I could see were her gimlet eyes glaring at me, while next to her the two burly servants stood, their faces impassive. My own guards were much closer, standing right behind my chair. But again, that didn’t seem to bother Berenice. She calmly busied herself with pouring the tea into cups and positioning the plate of biscuits on the table. I absently snagged a biscuit and bit into it, and butter and sweetness filled my mouth. Sighing, I leaned back—only to sit upright again at the maid’s snort.
Berenice gave a low laugh. “Don’t let Godelieve upset you,” she said as she handed me a teacup. “She grew up near a garrison and has the lowest opinion of soldiers.”
“Having lived in a garrison myself, I don’t blame her,” I said. Ignoring Groskin’s grunt, I smiled at Berenice. “Some of us can be pretty raucous.”
“And so we carry our opinions and prejudices with us, a little bit of home wherever we go.” Taking a small sip of tea, Berenice settled back in her chair. “What part of home do you carry, Lord Rabbit?”
Braced for something so portentous that it would cause her to brave fetching me from the king’s chambers, I was thrown off balance by Berenice’s question. Stalling for time, I looked down at my cup and saw the flames from the braziers reflected on the surface of the tea—red and orange, and shot with yellow. They danced and leapt about, their softly cackling laugh a counterpoint to the muted roar of the sea from down below and beyond as it crashed against a distant rocky shore. Both were as comforting as the hum of my air sphere and I felt a yearning welling up inside me to fling myself off the parapet wall and let the wind take me where it would—
I jerked my gaze up from my cup and looked back at Berenice, trying to pretend my heart wasn’t thumping in my throat. “What do I believe?” I asked, my voice a little hoarse.
“No,” Berenice said. “Not your credo. Your prejudices. What do you expect to find when you face the world each morn?”
“Oh.” I leaned forward and placed cup and saucer on the table, where its reflected surface would be out of sight. Sitting back, I once more looked out over the walk’s parapet, and was confronted with the crescent moon. I eyed it, but Lady Gaia’s consort seemed content to stay silent in the sky. For now. I pulled my cloak tighter around me and searched for clever repartee. “Hell if I know,” I said instead.
Godelieve gave another mumbling snort at my language. Berenice, though, merely raised her brows. “You don’t have any opinions?” she asked, her voice somewhat flat.
“I grew up in the Border,” I said, crooking a smile. “I have all sorts of opinions. It’s just that lately so many have been turned on their ears.”
“Ah,” Berenice said, her smile returning. “Like what?”
“It’s more a case of what hasn’t,” I said. “My parents may have been from Great Houses, but I was raised a farmer’s son, and until recently I was a common trooper based in a garrison located in a small trade town in the northern marches. My days consisted of patrolling the surrounding mountains and fighting bandits that preyed upon the merchant trains—”
“That must’ve been a sight,” Berenice murmured, eyeing my feather, braid, and air sphere.
I grinned while Groskin grunted again and Ryson made noises that sounded suspiciously like smothered laughter. “This was before the braid and everything,” I said. “Anyway, Freston was the backside of the world, but we’d get the occasional lord’s son with double-jointed names sneering his way through, and my mates and I would find it necessary to help him on in his travels.”
“You did say some of the soldiers were unruly.”
“Not us,” I said. “We didn’t dare. Not with Suiden as a captain. No, we were polite but firm that snooty obnoxiousness would not be tolerated, and that they would have to mend their ways or leave. Most left.”
“Damn right,” Groskin said very softly.
Berenice’s gaze darted over her shoulder at my impromptu guard before returning to me. The bruise was a dark shadow on her face. Then her whole face seemed to be shadowed—except for her gaze. Her plain brown eyes had turned black in the night, reflecting the braziers’ fires, and I watched the flames now leap in them, bright in the surrounding darkness.
“But now?” Berenice asked. “Has that prejudice changed?”
“I’m afraid I’ve become as snooty as any aristo’s son,” I said. “Not only have I acquired the dreaded double-jointed name, but I’ve come to expect certain things as my right and due.”
“Such as baths?” Berenice asked, the merry curve of her mouth matching the dancing flames in her eyes.
My face heated and I was glad for the flickering light. “Uhm, yeah,” I said. “Those are expected. I also expect Finn to keep my gear in good order and Bertram to greet me with choice tidbits and fine drinks. And for some reason I expected to be seated with you this evening, given the reason why I’m here at the castle.” I watched the merriment disappear from Berenice’s face, the shadow returning. “I was surprised when the last expectation wasn’t met.”
Berenice took another sip of by now cold tea, her gaze aimed at the lit ships in the harbor. “You speak of things expected,” she said after a moment. “Well, you weren’t.”
I blinked at that. “I wasn’t? But you sent a message to the king—”
“No, my lord,” Berenice said. “We expected you to arrive, but when you arrived we didn’t expect you.”
I parsed that. “Oh,” I finally said, remembering the considering looks I’d been receiving from Berenice’s father, the awed expression of her mother. “Why? Because of my braid and feather?”
Berenice quirked a smile; then it was gone. “Because of everything,” she said, waving an encompassing hand. “All your—how do you soldiers say? Accoutrements? Staff, braid, feather, ribbons? All of the bright colors and sparkles. You should look ridiculous with them. You should, but you don’t. Papa says—” She broke off, still staring out to sea.
“What does Lord Idwal say?” I prompted after a moment of silence.
“Papa knew your father,” she said.
“He did?” I asked, my surprise increasing.
“He met Lord Rafe through your grandfather while arranging for storage for our ships that make port in the Royal City.”
While Flavan’s wealth came from several plantations and owning the charters of three or four towns, Chause’s fortunes were more commercial in nature. “Your father leased Chause’s warehouses?” I asked.
“Still does,” Berenice said. “Back then, he dealt directly with your grandfather, and Papa says they dealt very well with each other. Still, the old Lord Chause and Papa were of different generations, while Lord Rafe was of the same age and they became friends. Papa says they ran wild together.” She quirked another smile. “Apparently Lord Rafe was always ripe for a spree.”
“I’ve heard that too,” I murmured.
“Papa expected you to be like your father,” Berenice said. Withdrawing her gaze from the sea, she looked at me. “He said that the fact you were garrisoned at Freston meant that you were at least slightly disreputable.”
Though I could hear more suppressed laughter from Ryson, I skipped over the slur on my character. “And so he thought that I’d be a good matrimonial prospect?” I asked, my frown returning.
Berenice’s eyes started to dance again at my indignation. “Papa says that Lord Rafe’s main fault was a lack of occupation. Your uncle Maceal, as eldest, was being groomed to step into your grandfather’s shoes, while your uncle Havram had the sea. That left the Church, which your father most definitely rejected.”
“Don’t blame him,” I said.
Berenice’s gaze lingered on the feather moving against my cheek in the night breeze, and her merriment increased. “No, I suppose you don’t.” She shrugged. “Papa expected Rafe’s son, bored and desperately in need of something to do. What arrived, however, was Rafe’s father, Lord Alain of Chause, who’d many times faced down the queen—”
“I’ve heard,” I said.
“—and stood off the Qarant.”
Now, that I hadn’t heard. I looked an inquiry at Berenice, but she was once more contemplating the sea.
“Papa says you’re the very image of your grandfather. Your stance, your walk, your facial expressions. Even the way you wear your clothes, despite all your sparkly accessories—and the fact that you don’t really care what we think about those sparkles in the first place.”
“He’s upset because I don’t favor my reprobate of a father who ran off with his friend’s betrothed?” I asked carefully.
Berenice’s merriment returned. “It does sound odd, doesn’t it? But see, that’s water under a very distant bridge. And he’s quite happy with Mama. And she with him.”
I did see. A lot. We were more than adequately chaperoned, still I gave Berenice a worried look. I might be the image of my formidable grandda who withstood queens and trade consortiums, but I had no desire to face an outraged father who was unsure of the offspring of a dissolute third son. A third son who’d once done him great wrong. “Should you be here with me? In fact, why are we here?”
Berenice shrugged again, drawing my attention once more to the graceful line of her neck. And again, I followed that line down, this time to the rounding of her shoulder and the gentle swell of her bodice … I snapped my gaze up to meet hers, which was much closer than it had been a moment ago. Her night-darkened eyes sparkled, full of fire and laughter, and she gave a wicked smile. “Why not be here? It is a splendid evening and we have observed all the proprieties. Besides, I trust you to be a perfect gentleman, my lord.”
“Well, yes. Of course.” I found myself returning her smile, the whys and wherefores fading rapidly. I leaned closer, suddenly not caring that we were surrounded by a crowd of witnesses. “My ma would find out if I weren’t,” I murmured, “and then she’d come get me, bringing all my sisters with her—”
The air sphere that had been quietly humming in my ear suddenly took off, darting to the far end of the walk. Berenice stopped and glared at it, before transferring her annoyance to me. “Can’t you control yourself?”
I sat back, surprised at her abrupt change of mood. “What—?”
There was a rattling crash from that end of the walk and I turned away from Berenice, springing up. Without thought, I grabbed fire from the braziers and flung it about us, just in time to see a shadowy figure jump over the parapet. I hurried after him, Groskin and Ryson right behind me, expecting any moment to hear a scream and the muffled thud of a body hitting the distant ground. However, the night remained free of any reminders of mortality and reaching the place where the figure went over, I could see just below a ledge that was wide enough for a man to—if he were very agile—walk.
“There,” Groskin said softly, pointing.
Looking where Ryson indicated, I caught a flicker of pale skin in the wan moonlight as someone ran along the narrow ledge. The air sphere had stayed at the parapet and I reached for it, ready to freeze whoever it was in their tracks.
“Well, it seems we were better chaperoned than we knew,” Berenice said. “Good evening, Your Highness.”
I spun from the parapet to see Princess Rajya and her bald wizard Munir standing at the other end of the broad walk.
“I see you, Sra Berenice and Sro Rabbit,” Princess Rajya said with a cool smile. “Lovely night, isn’t it?”
Ten
“It was a lovely evening,” Berenice said. Turning to the table, she began to stack the dishes.
“Still is, Sra Berenice,” Princess Rajya said as she and Munir moved closer to us, her slippered feet moving silently over the paving stones. Both of them were bundled up against the cold, their cloaks’ hoods shadowing their faces. “A starry and moonlit night.” The princess shrugged slender shoulders. “It is the perfect setting.”
Distracted by Princess Rajya’s unexpected appearance on the broad walk, I had looked away from the narrow ledge. I now looked back but saw nothing.
“He rounded the corner,” Groskin murmured quietly, and I nodded. Whoever the acrobat was, he’d made his escape. I turned away and walked back to Berenice, my guards with me.
“Perfect setting for what?” Berenice asked Her Highness. “Secret meetings in the dark? Or listening in on others’ conversations?”
Princess Rajya remained unruffled. “I suppose I should’ve spoken when you two arrived, but I figured it better to avoid embarrassment and awkward questions.”
“Like who was it that just went over the parapet rather than stay and be discovered?” Berenice asked. “Or like why you and your court wizard are out here where there’s a direct view of your warship in the harbor? And perhaps a direct view of you from the ship?”
I looked at the princess, very interested in her answer. But again she remained unruffled.
“If I wanted to send messages to my ship captain, or her to me, I would’ve sent a messenger,” Princess Rajya said. She smiled, a glint of teeth. “And I have no idea who you just chased over the ledge. As far as I know, it could’ve been someone who was spying on me.”
That was very possible and I struggled to keep my startled acknowledgment off my face.
“Your ignorance is very convenient, Your Highness,” Berenice said.
Princess Rajya shrugged again. “Not particularly. If whoever it was hadn’t allowed himself to be discovered, I wouldn’t have to account for the fact that I wanted fresh air to help me relax and think over the day.”
“It was eventful, wasn’t it?” Berenice said. “Like long-lost family suddenly appearing out of the blue, to everyone’s amazement.” She started packing the tea things away in the basket. “And tomorrow promises to be just as full of surprises and events. We should all return to our chambers as it’ll begin early.”
“Well, if it’s anything like tonight, then I expected we shall be vastly amused,” Princess Rajya said, her smile glinting harder.
B
erenice gave the princess an earnest look. “Oh, I do hope so, Your Highness. It is our wish that all of our guests enjoy themselves—the invited and the unexpected.”
Having been raised with four sisters, I knew enough to make damn sure that my face remained pleasantly neutral. Apparently Munir also had a healthy respect for the fair sex as he too maintained a bland expression. Ignoring the presence of lowly males, Berenice took a fresh candle from the basket and lit it from the old, setting the new in its place. One of her servants had bundled the lap rugs and now picked up the basket, while the other produced lids and prepared to cover the braziers. But before he could, Princess Rajya stopped him.
“If you would leave them burning, please,” Her Highness said. “Despite your plans for tomorrow, I’m not ready to retire and would like to remain here for a while.” She turned to me. “If you would join me, Sro Rabbit?”
Berenice looked up at the princess and then at me, her eyes burning with the reflected flames from braziers. But I was already shaking my head no. I had been raised with four sisters, and even more, there was my mother who did not raise a fool. “Thank you for your kind invitation, Your Highness, but I’m escorting Lady Berenice—”
I broke off at the sound of running footsteps and all of us turned to the doorway. A moment later a castle servant appeared at the opening. “M’lady,” she gasped, a hand pressed to her side as she curtseyed. She staggered and her other hand caught hold of the door frame. “Your father, he came to see you, to see how you were doing. We told him you’d thought of some task undone and was seeing to it. He’d said he’d be back—”
Berenice had stood frozen, listening with growing dismay, but at the servant’s last word, she broke into action, swiftly picking up the candle and, making sure the bundles and baskets were secured, hurried to the doorway and gasping servant. I started to join her, but she whirled around and held a hand up.
“No, don’t accompany me. In fact, wait here for a bit.” Berenice herself dropped a brief curtsey. “I shall see you tomorrow morning, my lord. Good night.”
With that she turned and was gone, her receding brisk footsteps just shy of a run.
Shadows Past: A Borderlands Novel Page 11